


leashed

by voksen



Category: Weiß Kreuz
Genre: Comment Fic, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-22
Updated: 2009-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:09:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voksen/pseuds/voksen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: privacy</p>
            </blockquote>





	leashed

A month out of Rosenkreuz, and Schuldig is getting used to it, to the illusion of freedom and privacy that comes from being on the other fucking side of the world with thousands of miles of ocean between him and the Alps.

Crawford ruins it, of course, every time he sees him; the ever-present suits and ties a nagging reminder that Crawford's got him on the leash just as sure as the day they'd signed him over.

He thinks, sometimes, about slipping his metaphorical collar and running, seeing how far he could get before they tracked him down and brought him back in. But it's only thoughts - he's not that stupid, he's seen what they do to traitors, and he's not ready to give up living just yet. He doesn't have to worry about thinking them, either, with the only man in the world who has a hope of getting through his shields firmly in his fucking alpine villa while Schuldig's here, sprawled on a plastic lounge chair on the hotel's private beach.

It's just like Crawford to wear a suit on the beach, he thinks, watching him pace the sand, talking into a phone. No bugs on the beach; no guarantees about their hotel room. Efficient, practical, but Crawford's on as much of a leash as he is, he thinks, and smirks.

Crawford shoots him a _look_ and his smirk widens; he sits up, peels off his shirt deliberately, and drops it in the sand. He licks his lips and raises an eyebrow pointedly - and laughs as Crawford turns his back, the tension through his shoulders perfectly visible.

 _No one's going to see if you come over here,_ he tells him, silently - lip service to respecting the phone call Crawford's still on. This is the best way he's found yet to get on his nerves and get some of his own back.

 _Not now, Schuldig._ Crawford's mental voice is crackling with annoyance - both at him and at the caller - and something else, not quite within reach. Schuldig wants to believe it's jealousy.


End file.
